


We have to stop meeting this way

by Tsuki_Amano



Series: Steve Rogers Guide to Superheroes [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skinny Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:46:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7795171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuki_Amano/pseuds/Tsuki_Amano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fact that Bucky reminds him of his favourite superhero ever, the Winter Soldier, that's just coincidence. There's no way it's anything more than that... right?</p><p>Based on the prompt, 'I've been messing around and writing this superhero's name on your coffee cup because you remind me of them, but wait now you're in an alleyway beaten up.'</p><p>Or, the continuation of that Superhero AU no one asked for with Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, the Superhero and his not-so-clueless boyfriend Steve Rogers. Because Steve knows what Bucky gets up to in his spare time. And he wants to help you understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We have to stop meeting this way

**Author's Note:**

> This sort of makes more sense if you read the last installment, but it can be read as a standalone as well.

It starts off as an honest mistake. Steve’s still shaken up from last night’s events, when he’d had a run in with some bullies that would have probably left him with some lasting damage if the **_Winter Soldier_** himself hadn’t shown up and saved him. Needless to say, even if he hadn’t been bruised and sore, he probably wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep very easily, because the Winter Soldier had more or less swept him off his feet.

But he needs the money and he’s not really sure if his insurance covers situations like this ( _it probably doesn’t_ ), so he heads into work the next morning.

His friend Pietro takes one look at him, scowls and swears before shoving him into the backroom and essentially mother-henning him the whole day. As the rush dies down, and Pietro is more convinced that a strong breeze won’t knock him down, he allows Steve to come out and help him with some of the orders.

There’s maybe a half an hour left for his shift, and his ribs are starting to ache and the sharp smell of roasted coffee beans is starting to become just a bit overwhelming and nauseate him, when the bell above the shop door jingles and Steve looks up, hoping that his face doesn’t reflect his annoyance.

That’s when he sees him.                                                                                  

Walking into their café is what has to be the most gorgeous man that Steve has ever seen in his life. With strong shoulders and a stronger jaw-line, the man has a slight hipster vibe about him, with thick brown hair pulled into a bun. He’s wearing a pair of sinfully tight jeans and sneakers, and Steve totally does not stare as he chews on his bottom lip, contemplating the chalk-board menu they have up today.

Steve may or may not want to bite that lip.

_He needs to re-evaluate his life choices._

The man seems to finally decide what he wants to order and he scans the counter for a second, before his eyes land on Steve, widening for a second before crinkling at the sides as he smiles.

There’s something familiar about that gaze, about those blue eyes, but Steve just can’t place what it is.

He shakes his head, reasoning that he must be confused because he’s tired and greets the new man, asking him what he’d like to order.

“I’d just like a large, black coffee please.” And oh no, Steve’s sunk because his voice is as gorgeous as the rest of him, if not equally strangely familiar. Has Steve met him before, because he can swear he’s heard this deep baritone somewhere else.

He’s surprised at the man’s order and he clarifies, “Would you like any sugar or milk with that?”

“Ah no, just the black coffee.”

Steve’s surprise must show through on his face because the man laughs and says, “Not a very popular choice?”

“No, a lot of people order that, it’s just,” he flushes, “If I’m being honest, it’s not my favourite drink. I can’t stand the taste of coffee without sugar or milk in it.”

“Well, it’s certainly an acquired taste.”

Ringing up his order, he tries his best not to fumble the styrofoam cup as he uncaps a marker and asks, “Can I get your name for the order please?”

“It’s James.” He starts to write down the name before he’s stopped by the man who says hastily, “Actually no, put it down as Bucky.”

Steve blinks, he must have heard it wrong, there’s no way that’s what his name is. But before he can ask again, the man’s phone rings, and apparently it’s an important call because he dashes to the side to take it.

He makes up the order and places the cup on the counter. Right as he’s about to call out to James to grab his coffee, the doorbell rings and a group of chattering college students flock in. Since he’s already at the ordering point, he steels himself for the wave of over-complicated sugar laden drinks and Pietro grabs the steaming cup from his side, letting him know that he’ll field that order.

Steve can’t help but feel a little disappointed, he sort of wanted to handle that one, but he supposes that you can’t always get what you what.

As he writes down the exact number of pumps of caramel the girl in front of him wants, he overhears Pietro call out, “One Americano for uh… a Binky?”

Pietro isn’t even subtle as he snorts, and while yes Steve admits that it’s an amusing name, it’s still unprofessional and wow, he hopes Jan doesn’t hear about this. The encounter slides out of his mind and he tries not to imagine that Pietro got to actually talk to James while he’s stuck here, writing up drink orders that sound more complicated than plans for a space shuttle.

His head is bowed down as he writes the name of his last customer on a styrofoam cup ( _Hank, he’d been reliably informed, by a man who looked like he’d walked straight of a chemistry lab_ ). That’s why he doesn’t notice the figure approaching the counter until a very familiar pair of sneakers enters his line of vision.

Startled, he jerks his head up and finds James standing in front of him, coffee in one hand, a fond smirk on his lips.

“Uh, would you like to order something else?” he stammers out, wondering if he’d screwed up something.

James rotates the cup to where Steve’s untidy scrawl is, and he taps his finger over the name that he’d written. “Name’s not Binky, although I have to admit, that was a good one. I love seeing what names baristas create when I go in. But I feel like I want _you_ to know my actual name, and that’s not Binky. It’s Bucky.”

Steve’s face has been growing redder and redder by the second and he stammers out an apology. But his brain, which has apparently decided to take an unscheduled vacation decides to give him the very useful input of, “That’s not a whole better than Binky.”

And oh shit, he shouldn’t have said, _he should not have said that_.

For a second, Bucky blinks at him, shocked into silence by Steve’s answer, before he bursts out laughing.

“You punk,” he cackles, “Didn’t expect that.”

Steve’s glad that he’s amused by it, but he shyly apologises and admits that he’s not wearing his hearing aid today, because it broke last night.

When he hears that, Bucky frowns, “Aw, geez, now I feel bad. I didn’t mean to pick on ya, especially because I know it was an honest mistake. Besides, I thought it was pretty funny.”

Steve smiles at him, before Pietro calls him to ask if he’s got the next order written up. Grinning sheepishly at Bucky he shrugs his shoulders and says, “Sorry, I have to get back to work.”

Bucky waves him off and calls out as he’s leaving, “See ya later Stevie.”

That strange feeling of familiarity creeps up again, and Steve’s struck by how strong it is.

It’s not till he’s heading home that he stops in the middle of the street, causing a middle aged lady to almost walk into him. She walks by angrily glaring at him and muttering curses under her breath but he can’t be bothered. Because he knows who Bucky reminds him of; with his eyes, his smile and his voice, with the way he calls Steve a punk.

But no, he thinks, shaking his head, there’s no way.

_There’s no way Bucky can be the Winter Soldier._

Bucky becomes a regular at the coffee shop and as Steve gets more comfortable with him, he starts to realise that the man has a terrible sense of humor. Steve’s become accustomed to bad puns and even worse one-liners. Possibly the strangest thing out of all of this, though, is that Steve finds himself endeared to the man, bad jokes and all.

After his encounter with Pietro though, the jokes die down for a while and Steve can’t help but be a bit worried. Bucky’s smiles are smaller and sometimes they don’t quite reach his eyes. He’s more tired and his shoulders are often slumped when he thinks Steve’s not looking.

It’s just not right.

Which is why Steve takes it upon himself to try to cheer Bucky up.

He starts writing misspelled versions of Bucky’s name on his coffee cup, ranging from Blinkers to Barbara.

Bucky’s smile gets a little wider each time and he snorts in a most undignified manner when he sees Steve’s little caricature of himself drawn on the side.

Steve grins at him and slides his change over.

Pietro scoffs from the side, nudging Steve later and telling him to keep the foreplay to a minimum, please and thank you.

As the weeks pass, Steve still can’t shake the feeling that Bucky reminds him of the Winter Soldier. It’s strange, it has to be a coincidence how tired Bucky looks after the city is hit by an attack and the Avengers have to save the day. Or the way that Bucky’s jaw is bruised in exactly the same place as the Soldier’s after an unfortunate encounter with a Doombot.

He brings it up one day, casually, not thinking much of it.

Bucky stills, his spine going rigid.

“I remind you…of the Winter Soldier?” he asks slowly, as though unsure of what to make of it.

“Yeah, is that weird? You just sort of do.” He mistakes Bucky’s hesitance as annoyance and hastily adds, “It’s not an insult or anything, honestly, I think he’s my favourite Avenger. Plus, could you imagine actually meeting an Avenger in real life?  That’d be amazing wouldn’t it?”

“Got something you’d want to get autographed?” Bucky asks with a small grin on his face.

“Nah, it’s not that. I’d just like to thank them you know? For keeping us safe. Especially the Winter Soldier, I mean, the other day when he saved me. If it wasn’t for him…I’m not the healthiest guy around. If he hadn’t stepped in…” he lets his voice trail off.

Bucky looks surprisingly pensive and adds, “If I ever meet him, I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Steve writes ‘W.S.’ on Bucky’s cup and fills his order.

He doesn’t miss the way Bucky traces his finger over the initials, staring wistfully at the writing before he leaves.

It becomes something of a tradition between the two of them, with Steve always writing W.S. on the cup or sometimes just Winter. Once or twice, he’s drawn a snowman on the side, just to watch Bucky’s smile. If he wanted to be sappy and poetic, he’d say it was like watching the sun rise over the horizon.

But he wasn’t sappy nor poetic so he had no such thoughts.

Really.

About a month later, Steve’s finishing up his shift, disappointed that Bucky hadn’t shown up for the day. Waving to Pietro, he heads home, groaning as he notices the heavy downpour outside. He rushes back, pulling his rain coat over his head and cuts through an alley-way to get to his apartment faster.

Movement at the corner of his eye makes him stop and when he realises what it is, he runs forward, thoughts of heading home completely forgotten.

Bucky’s propped up against a wall, one leg bent at an awkward angle, with his head bowed down. His arms clutch his side, which Steve realises with no small amount of horror, is stained by an alarmingly large red puddle of what appears to be blood.

Kneeling next to Bucky’s side, he ignores the way his jeans are soaked and caked with mud.

“Bucky,” he calls out, hand gently resting on his shoulder, “Can you hear me?”

He’s got half a mind to pull out his cell-phone when Bucky lets out a soft moan of pain.

“Geez punk, could you be any louder? Can’t even take a nap with you being so loud.”

Steve lets out a half-sob, “We need to get you to a hospital, Bucky you’ve lost so much blood, hold on, I’m calling an ambulance right now.”

“Don’t worry about it Rogers.”

Steve’s head whips around and he’s surprised he didn’t hear Clint till now.

“Clint… what the… What’s going on?”

Clint fixes him with a calculating look before replying, “Bucky picked the wrong time to get involved with an argument is all. He’s got a real way with his words, knows just how to get people to want to hit him.”

“Clint he needs to go to a hospital.” Steve urges.

“No,” Bucky rasps out, “No hospitals. I’m fine, honestly.”

“ _Honestly_ , unless you’ve taken to emptying bottles of Heinz around you for fun, you are not fine. You’re as far away from fine as possible right now!”

“We’re taking him to see a doctor right now.” Clint supplies helpfully.

Raising an eyebrow, Steve asks, “We?”

Almost as though his voice carried over, a stylish sports car veers around the corner, stopping right next to the entrance of the alley way. The door pops open and out steps none other than Tony Stark.

Steve’s jaw drops and he gets that familiar feeling of being completely out of depth.

Clint seems to realise that there’s no way Steve’s leaving without an argument, so he gestures to Steve to help him support Bucky. Between the two of them, they make their way into Tony’s car, and before he knows it, Steve’s on his way to some unknown location with a man he’s never met, a man who’s bleeding out, and Clint.

As Bucky leans onto his shoulder, he lets his hand close around Bucky’s, rubbing circles into the injured man’s palm.

Whatever’s going on, he’s going to make sure that Bucky’s ok.

**_*Extra Scene*_ **

_“You do realise that I’m not actually a medical doctor don’t you?”_

_Steve’s about to shout at Clint, because what was he doing, fooling around when Bucky was that badly hurt, when Tony says, “Yet every time something happens, you patch us up. We could use a bit of assistance Dr. Banner.”_

_Dr. Banner adjusts his spectacles and sighs, looking for all the world like a very annoyed professor, and begins to tend to his wounds._

_Clint ushers him out, whispering when Steve tries to protest, “Bruce, he uh, does his best work when it’s quiet. Trust me, you really don’t want to see him mad.”_

_They’re barely out of the room when a large man in… was that chain-mail?...comes barrelling down the corridor, twirling a hammer next to him and booms, “Ah… Clint! You have returned! I trust you have been successful in your quest to retrieve my Popping Tarts?”_

_“They’re Pop-Tarts, Thor, and I, uh, got a bit held up.”_

_As Thor begins to argue loudly, Steve fights the overwhelming urge to curl up in the corner._

_He really needs to stop trying the free samples at the café._

* * *

Come say [hi!](everydayindian.tumblr.com) I post mostly about food and dogs and bad puns (that character trait may be based off me, because bad puns are the best!)

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have been reliably informed that a black coffee is called Americano. I could be wrong though, because I don't drink coffee. I did go to a starbucks for research purposes (And bought a panini because I'm dedicated like that).
> 
> This hasn't really been edited very well because I'm sick and leaving for a conference tomorrow, so if there are any mistakes, please let me know!


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